Tweed and Slacks
by LaconicThought
Summary: its just a few short thoughts from Wesley while he and Cordy are looking threw books in 'your welcome'


Short thoughts of Wesley during 'Your Welcome' the seen where he and Cordy are researching threw the old books.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of ANGEL or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I own nothing  
  
Old Tweed Coats  
  
In the beginning I had considered this to be a rather light but enjoyable task. That me and my slayer would spend time doing solitary reading and out slaying, although I would always assume the position of the victim when it came to encountering vampires myself. Sunny Dale had seemed like the perfect place for me to prove to my un-satisfy-able father that I could stray from the selected group and be able to boast about my slayers abilities.  
I was originally your typical know it all wannabe watcher with the slicked back hair and carefully fitted suit with a handkerchief slightly sticking out from my side pocket and pristine clear glasses resting on the bridge of my nose expressing my crisp English accent.  
SunnyDale had never really been kind to me, or the inhabitance. There was Alexander that everyone dubbed Xander, not a bright fellow who used to much unnecessary humor for my tastes and the cowardliness of a elephant whose seen a rodent wander past its view. I have a strangely unknown respect for the strange man.  
Willow had always seemed to ignore my existence showing her loyalties had and always would rest with Giles. Interesting girl she was with a knack for all that revolved around technology. Seemed to want respect and was always practicing with the dark arts for amusement. This red headed girl has turned out to be an astounding woman.  
Giles I knew never cared or would care for me as much as I have grown to worry and rely on him. Astounding watcher with such a loyal slayer that still kept in touch with one another. Id never have that if I now tried. I know he thought I was a pain. I haven't spoken to him since my sunny dale life.  
Then there was Oz. Odd fellow, werewolf to. Never said much and was much more focused on watching his redhead girlfriend talk and express her ideas. Strange short, multicolored hair boy. He and Angel have exchanged a few wordless phone calls.  
The slayer, Buffy. The girl disrespected me and taunted my internal instincts that were locked and tossed at bottom of the sea that I had to keep that way if I wanted to please father and the council. The petite blond slayer tested my tolerance which at that time was extremely high to today standards. Remarkable young woman, rather selfish in a way. Which is less then I could say for Faith.  
Faith had been the most un-loyal and randy slayer in history. Oh but how I love her like a daughter now. She had slipped down the cliff of darkness several times but managed to make a painful climb up with Angel as the spikes thrust into the side of this cliff to sustain her. The literal torture she put me threw seems far away now and has helped me. It saddened me that she lost confidence and trust in us and me now that were with Wolfram & Heart and now trusts the other slayer and her scoobies instead of us. Its strange how I always considered Faith as ours and not theirs.  
I let out a smile and a soft smirk of amusement as I turn to look at the slightly blond haired bright and cheerful woman siting on the sofa on the side of the room named Cordelia. She's been what I could say the biggest inspiration to us of all. She commanded and stood at the wheel of the ship guiding us on the correct path. We had a very short romantic quip back when Buffy blew up the mayor of Sunny Dale, now best friends with shining hope.  
No way can words express what Angel, Gunn, Cordelia, Fred and, Lorn have meant to me. Those past events seem well worth going threw again to get to where I am today, even if it means were on the wrong side trying to do good. I look down at the words in the book in front of me and forget all this for a brief moment. That's all I need to regain my path. We laugh and share a grin before returning to the task at hand.  
  
LaconicThought... 


End file.
